


Any Day Now

by VancityJax



Category: Fringe (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VancityJax/pseuds/VancityJax
Summary: Peter helps Olivia’s pregnancy along





	Any Day Now

Olivia clenches her eyes closed and focuses on steadying her breathing as she leans heavily onto the edge of the crib. She feels weaker today, tired and frustratingly exhausted, her body far too swollen and the baby far too active, kicking furiously at her insides. She’s thankful she’d started her maternity leave last week but she’d started to become restless, wandering around the house and refusing to lie in bed all day. Still, it had become so exhausting.

Olivia rubs a hand over her belly as she tries to gather the strength to walk back to the bedroom and lie down for a bit. Another hand covers hers, slipping over her fingers.

"Everything okay?" Peter asks gently from behind her.

Olivia forces a smile on her face. "Yeah. She's getting heavy is all."

Peter nods and pulls her back against him, supporting her weight in his embrace and lying a tender kiss at her neck. He grows a bit more adventurous, lips nipping behind her ear and making her shiver.

“Peter." She heaves as he pulls away and leads her to the rocking chair in the corner.

"Here, sit down."

Casting him an amused look but unable to resist, Olivia grips his arms in support as she lowers herself into the chair, moaning happily at the relief.

"Better?"

Olivia smiles. "Much. Thank you." She suddenly flinches again, reaching to grip her belly in pain as another kick thrums at her insides. "Shh... Settle down."

Peter watches her curiously. “I know you've been feeling awful Olivia, I'm so sorry. If we could share in this you know I would.”

She gives him a meek grin, shaking her head as she squeezes his hand in hers. "It's only another week. I'll last. She could come any minute now anyways.”

He thought about that for a minute. Both in panic and excitement. “Can I at least make you feel better?"

"Oh? How do you plan on doing that?" She laughs.

“I have my ways, Agent Dunham." Peter hums and eases himself to the floor in front of her. She blushes as his hands trace her sides and fingers playing with the hem of her oversized nightshirt. As he pushes it up over the swell of her belly, Olivia lets her legs fall open slightly for him.

Peter kisses the underside of her round belly and mouthes his way between her legs, tongue tracing the light pink stretch marks at her inner thighs that he'd come to adore in the past few months.

He buries his nose into her folds, breathing deep in her musk. Olivia shudders and her toes curl as she raises a leg to rest on Peter's shoulders. He chuckles and strokes her thighs appreciatively as he sucks at her swollen nub.

"We shouldn't be doing this..." She mumbles, gripping the arm rests of the rocking chair. "Not in the baby's room."

“Mm... Do you want to go to the bedroom?” He asks from between her legs without looking up and only pausing momentarily. Over the swell of her belly, Olivia can only see the curls of his hair. Her fingers bury into them, gasping as Peter’s tongue lathes over her yet again.

“Please.”

————————————————————

  
The bed rocks gently in time with their bodies. Olivia is solid and warm in his arms, her back curved against his chest

"Okay?" he asks, pressing into her again. Peter props himself up enough to brush aside a messy lock of hair from her forehead and tease a kiss along the soft shell of her ear.

"Not if you stop," Olivia breathes, her cheeks pink. Now it's easier for her when they spoon, but even a few short weeks ago, she preferred being on top of him, riding him at her own pace.

“I won’t” Peter promises. He has felt so unbelievably useless the last few months of her pregnancy. She’d worked so hard and while he did everything in his power to make her more comfortable, this was the easiest and most satisfying way. He’s learned how to stave off his own orgasm for as long as possible, just to give her more time to get there with him. Peter won’t admit out loud the extent of his lust for Olivia’s current condition. She is his and he’ll always love her no matter what- but something about the swell of her belly, the pink flush of her skin and the way she cradles herself, triggers a deeply evolutionary response within him.

The swell of Olivia’s breast is heavy as he slides his hand to cup the fullness of it, and when a thin trickle of watery milk leaks from the tip, he rubs it into her skin. She twitches at that, hips jerking back to seat him deeper inside her.

He does it again, and she moans and twists, offers her mouth up for a kiss which he manages just barely. "Any day now," he says, and feels her smile. She's anxious too, he knows, but he's never met a woman stronger than her.

"Give me your hand," she tells him, and he slides his fingers over hers, tangles them together. He holds his breath when she drags their hands down, brushing the curve of her hip and the roundness of her belly. She presses his fingers into the firmness of her skin and faintly he swears he can feel their daughter press back with the slightest kick. It’s almost too much for Peter.

He withdraws and slides his hand between the press of her thighs, wriggles his fingers between the wet folds of her to rub them slick and find her clit. Olivia sucks in a shallow breath, her hands fisting in the sheets. He feels her toes curl, the soles of her feet skidding down his shins, and the way it makes her shift against and around him sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his spine.

"You're so gorgeous," he says. She laughs a little between a moan, not wanting to accept the compliment, but it's true so he tells her again, murmurs it against the bare skin of her shoulder as he works his hips into the same rhythm as his fingers.

"Peter, I-" Olivia jerks, her mouth falling open and a small sound forced out of her by the next thrust that gets him bottoming out, their bodies sealed together for a fraction of a moment.

"Almost there?" He can feel that she's close with the way she's gone tense, but he asks anyway, and Olivia really is so goddamn gorgeous with her lips parted and the flush of sex tinting her cheeks pink as her blonde hair spills messily over her face.

"No, I think I...."

"The baby?" he asks, going still, but his concern can't stop the groan that had been building up his throat. For a heartstop moment Olivia feels fragile.

"I think I, you know, peed a little," she says with a hint of shame.

He wants to laugh, but holds it back, kisses the nearest patch of her skin and slides his fingers down to feel where she's so very wet that he wouldn't be able to tell if she had. "Don't even worry about it," Peter says. The baby pushes on her bladder so much that as long as he doesn't have to do a full load of sheets every few hours, he doesn't much care. "Do you want a break?"

"Not really." Olivia gushes, pulling the hair away from her face with an embarrassed smile.

He finds his rhythm again, and the interruption hadn't been enough to kick her off her stride and leave her frustrated. She shudders as Peter strokes her to orgasm, cries out when it peaks, the sheets in a crumple next to her as she clutches to them.

Peter finishes a little harder than he means, hand slid away from the trap of her thighs to settle on her hip and squeeze fitfully as the slam of orgasm hits him. Breathless, he drops his head to the pillow before pulling out and getting ready to help her up and to the bathroom. With the sheets already a mess, he wipes off his thighs, and Olivia has a tendency to get really wet, but this is definitely more than that. He's about to tease her, trail his fingertips up the wetness on her legs and maybe curve his fingers inside her and feel the hot mess of his come still trapped in her, but she shifts and it's not just a spill of his come spreading onto the sheets.

"Oh God," she says, and it's embarrassment in her voice and not panic.

Right now, Peter has the corner on panic. It's about a one in ten chance, he knows, since he's read all the same books with her, and gone to the classes with the breathing and the other first-time couples. "Did you?" he says, and as she sits up the wet spot spreads just a bit more.

"Oh God," she repeats, and she's as nervous as he is, but she's laughing too, her hands curling over her stomach. “My water broke.”


End file.
